What Edmund Wanted
by The Owl's Pen
Summary: The one thing Edmund wanted was to feel as if he and his Dad were getting through this war together.


**Disclaimer - C.S. Lewis owns the Chronicles of Narnia, not I!**

**Rated - K**

**This little one-shot was inspired by one of my favorite moments in the movie version of LWW! More notes at the end. Enjoy!**

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**What Edmund Wanted**

"Smile, Edmund."

Edmund glared at the camera.

His mother sighed. "Come on, Ed. I want to send a picture of you to Daddy. A _nice _picture. One where you actually _smile."_

Edmund said nothing, merely folded his arms over his chest and continued to frown. Mum wanted him to get dressed up? Fine. Mum wanted him to wash his face and comb his hair? Fine. Mum wanted him to sit nicely on the window seat with his brother and sisters? Fine.

But he drew the line at smiling.

Behind him, he heard Peter huff. Then he felt fingers tighten at his shoulder. _"Ed." _The mere pronunciation of his name on his fourteen-year-old brother's lips was a warning.

"You're mussing my shirt!" Edmund shrugged off the older boy's hand.

"And I'll muss your _weekend _if you don't _smile," _Peter hissed.

"Peter!" Mum cut in.

Both boys sighed. Dad had just gone away to war a few weeks ago. The house felt altogether too big with one less person. Also, Ed thought, altogether too _female, _since the ratio of girls to boys was now three to two. Dad had sent a few letters, some addressed to all five of them, some written for each individual member of the family. Edmund had read his own letter in the air raid shelter, trying to imagine that the little earthen room in the Pevensie back yard was a trench and the letter was a secret communication from his father just across the battlefield.

"Be a good boy," Dad had written. "Be nice to Lucy, and don't forget to tell her stories. Let Susan help you when she offers. Tell your Mum what a good job she's doing with you four. And listen to Peter while I am away."

It was that last line that had upset Edmund. Listen to _Peter? _Why? Wasn't Mum looking after things? Couldn't she take care of them all? Didn't she wake them every morning with smiles and kisses, and send them to bed with cocoa and prayers for Dad's safe return? Didn't she do everything in between, all the cooking and managing and cleaning and soothing of fears? Why did _Peter _suddenly have to be responsible?

Did Dad think he wouldn't be coming back home?

Mum pushed her hair out of her face. "Edmund, please. Susan and Lucy are both smiling. So is Peter. Why won't you?"

Edmund considered this. Susan, in her lavender skirt and white blouse, was prim as a statue and always did as she was told. Lucy, dressed in a little brown jumper and a plaid hair ribbon, was such a baby that she smiled at _everything. _And Peter, in a light sweater and trousers…

Edmund scowled. _Peter thinks he's king, now that Dad is away. Of __**course **__he's smiling._

"That's not a very nice face," Lucy spoke up, seeing Edmund's expression. She hugged her little stuffed puppy to her chest.

"I don't _want _to make a nice face," Edmund retorted. "I want to go back to my room."

"You can go back once pictures are done and you've _smiled," _Peter said in exasperation.

"This is boring!"

"We'd have been done ten minutes ago if you had just smiled in the first place," Susan sighed. She brushed at a wrinkle in her skirt. "Honestly, Edmund…"

"Shut up, Susan."

"_Edmund!"_

He weighed the tone of Mum's voice. Annoyed, but not yet dangerously so. Edmund found it curious that, since Dad had left, Mum was _less _strict than before. He had done any number of things that, before the war, would have earned him a fine punishment indeed. Some were accidents. Breaking Mum's best china teapot. _That _was an accident. Tripping Lucy in the hall. Well… that had _started _as intentional. He hadn't actually expected Lucy to fall and skin up her knee. Surprisingly, his little sister had made no complaint other than "Ow," and Mum had simply asked Edmund to please be a little more careful. She _did _scold fiercely when Edmund snuck out with a school friend after curfew and Peter dragged him home. But then her voice caught in her throat, and her eyes got very bright, and for one minute Edmund was horrified to think that she might actually cry. She didn't. She drew him into a quivering hug and told him she just wanted him to be _safe, _and to never do that again, _please. _Edmund couldn't quite figure Mum out these days. Didn't she get mad any more?

But what Mum turned a blind eye to, Peter jumped on instantly. Every little thing – _every little one – _that Edmund did, Peter was sure to comment on. And since his younger brother's behavior was far from ideal, Pete had spent much of the past few weeks chastising. It had gotten so that he reprimanded Edmund before he even had a chance to _consider _being naughty. It wasn't fair. Only parents – actual _grown-ups – _were supposed to have that kind of talent.

The others shifted around and sighed as Edmund stared grumpily at the camera.

All except Peter, who bent down to eye level with his brother. "Edmund," He said in a slow, deliberate voice, "You have exactly _one minute _to put a smile on your stubborn little face or so help me…"

Anger flashed straight through Edmund as he recognized that tone; Peter was trying to sound like Dad. But he wasn't Dad. He would never _be _Dad, but the terrifying thing was that Mum and the girls were all acting as if he _was. _Even Dad, in his letter, had made it sound as if Peter was in charge now, as if… if everyone just got used to Peter being the head of the house and responsible for Mum and the girls' safety and Edmund's discipline, then maybe Dad wouldn't need to come home. Ever.

Edmund wasn't about to let that happen.

"_I __**won't**__ smile for anyone but Dad!"_

Silence.

Edmund realized that he may have pushed his luck just a bit too far. Mum's face had gone white, although she looked more scared than mad. Susan gasped, then hurried to put her arms around Lucy and shush the tears pooling in their little sister's eyes. Peter, on the other hand, looked as if he would like to drag Edmund out into the middle of a dark, scary wood and leave him there indefinitely. Edmund decided that now was the time for a strategic retreat.

"Or Lucy," he said meekly. "I'll smile if Lucy tells me to."

At this, Lucy's head bobbed up in surprise. "Really?"

Edmund was already regretting it. He frowned. "Yes."

"Can I sit in your lap?"

Okay, now he was _really _regretting it. But considering the challenging look Peter had leveled on him, and the hopeful expression in Mum's eyes, Edmund decided it would be best to submit to the enemy. "Yes."

"And you'll give Mr. Fluff a kiss?" Lucy held the puppy out to him.

"_Don't _push it," Edmund growled.

"Well, okay." Lucy scrambled into his lap and flung an arm around his neck.

"_Oof," _he complained. His arms lay limp at his sides.

"Ed," Peter prodded.

Edmund glared at him. Peter glared right back. "Oh _all right." _He gingerly put an arm around Lucy's waist. She snuggled up to him, the puppy cradled in her free arm. "Don't get used to this," he muttered.

Her soft brown hair brushed his shoulder as she turned her face to him. Big blue eyes stared into his dark ones. "I love you Edmund," Lucy answered solemnly.

Oh, this was getting just _horrible!_

"That looks lovely!" Mum cried. "Susan, you sit next to Edmund… no, on the other side dear. Peter darling, if you kneel behind them and put a hand on Susan's shoulder… That's right!" Mum nodded, her eyes wide and happy. "Now then, everybody ready to smile… Edmund?"

Ed gave one last scowl before allowing his face to go briefly neutral. Then a very _very _small smile appeared on his lips.

"One, two, three…"

_Click. _

"Good! One more…"

_Click_

Edmund barely managed to keep from all but dumping Lucy flat on the ground, so eager was he to get her out of his lap. "Get off."

"But…"

"_Off!" _he commanded.

Peter rolled his eyes and scooped his little sister up. _"Ed-mund."_

"I told her not to get used to it!"

"You can ruin just about anything, can't you?" Peter snapped, cuddling a sad-eyed Lucy in his arms.

"I _smiled _didn't I? I let Lucy sit in my _lap, _didn't I?"

"Yes you did, Ed," his Mum cut in before Peter could retort. "You did very nicely, and I'm sure your father will be quite happy to have this picture with him in the trenches." She looked straight into his dark eyes.

Edmund felt his breath catch in his chest. He stared back.

Mum understood. She reached out and put a gentle hand on his hair, brushing his dark bangs into place as she murmured. "Thank you, Edmund." She put the Brownie in its case. "Come on then, all of you. Change your clothes and we'll have lunch."

As his family filed out of the living room, Edmund stayed in the window seat. He pulled his knees up and rested his chin on them, staring at the framed picture of his father on the end table.

Mum had told them all to keep in mind what they would want with them in the shelter, should an air raid occur. For Lucy, it was Mr. Fluff. For Susan, a book and her torch. Peter wanted only to know that they were all together. Mum had her own torch and a blanket. Edmund, up to this point, hadn't wanted anything in particular, figuring he would take whatever item most appealed to him at the moment. But as his mother's words about Dad looking at his children's picture in the trenches sunk in, Edmund had a realization. The one thing he needed was to feel as if he and his father were getting through this war together. If Dad was going to be looking at _his _picture during bombings_, _then Edmund wanted to do the same with a picture of Dad.

That night, the first of the air raids began.

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**It's me again! **

**I've always loved the opening of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, where Ed goes running back into the house for his father's picture, and the way his Mum seems to understand why he would risk such a thing. Then I thought of the fact that my brother always refused to smile for pictures "Unless Grandma tells me to!", and the two ideas just sort of came together! I'm contemplating continuing this storyline. Maybe Edmund's thoughts while they are waiting in the shelter? Or later that night? I'm also working on developing his relationship with his Mum (I love Mrs. Pevensie). What do you think? ****Please read, review, and critique!**


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